


The Short Term Effects of Alien Spores on (Spider) Humans

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Category: Nova (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Sex Pollen, Space Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: The flowers were to blame. Peter stuck by that."No. Touching. Anything." Sam had said. Scratch that thing about the flowers actually, because all of this was actually Sam’s fault.
Relationships: Sam Alexander/Peter Parker
Kudos: 73





	The Short Term Effects of Alien Spores on (Spider) Humans

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the ultimate Spider-Man cartoon where Peter and Sam are the same age and (as he's very very briefly mentioned) Amadeus Cho is not a hulk but rather a spider person.  
> Knowledge of anything need not apply, this is just self indulgent smut.

The flowers were to blame. 

Peter stuck by that. It wasn’t **his** fault that stupid space flowers were so fascinating! He was a biochemist! Emphasis on the **bio**. He was practically honor bound to research alien flora and fauna!

He'd finally gotten clearance to use the SHIELD long range space shuttle (really Spider themed but SHIELD wouldn't let Amadeus or Peter name it, on account of first contact politics, like there was something wrong with spiders!). And then he pestered and bothered and generally harassed Sam into navigating him to a planet within its range with plenty of non-sentient life to document and study and observe and generally science at.

"No. Touching. Anything." Sam had said, before taking away Peter's carefully prepared specimen collection kit. Peter was hardly mollified when he gave him both earth tech and space tech recording equipment.

"Yeah, uh-huh sure," Peter had said, outwardly sulky but inwardly smugly pleased that Sam hadn't thought to frisk him. Peter had planned for accidentally losing his field science kit and had sterile specimen collection tubes and bags stored in various sneaky pockets on his SHIELD issued Spider-Man suit.

Peter blamed the flowers.

“Seriously Parker?” Sam said for the thousandth time in the past twenty or so minutes. Sounding far too attractive, all things considered.

Scratch that thing about the flowers actually, because all of this was actually _Sam’s_ fault.

Sam was the one who’d brought him to this stupid planet in the first place. Sam was the one that hadn't frisked Peter for backup science toys! He could have done that, put his hands all over Peter. Groped and touched and… no. Bad brain. Where was he? Right. Sam had looked away from him for more than five minutes! Sam had to know Peter well enough by now to know that he couldn't be trusted when there was science to do!

“Can we just pretend this isn’t happening and move on?” Peter pled. “Like, you could just look at anything other than me, and I can die from humiliation in peace.”

Sam made a rude sound in answer, then swatted in his direction. “I’m trying to figure out how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself into here."

Pete found this a little bit suspect. Was that bucket on his teammate's head actually doing anything useful, or was Sam just pretending it was? Peter squirmed, uncomfortably hard, and pollen wafted off of him in accusing yellow puffs. Because, _of course_ he’d found _sex pollen_. Of course. Rotten Parker luck. 

Peter was definitely prepared to defend his determination with a vengeance. Assuming he ever actually published anything on this stupid plant. When Peter had tried to (extremely gently!) scrape a tiny amount of pollen into his collection bag, the flower had unloaded what seemed like a metric ton of pollen directly onto his head. And then, within a bare thirty seconds, came the boner.

Sam had cackled when Peter had grabbed him and hauled him back over to the SHIELD (neé Spider) ship. But Sam wasn’t cackling anymore. Peter had preferred the cackling, it was annoying and **normal** _._ Peter’s cheeks were unbearably red, mostly from embarrassment, but a little bit from the ever rising heat that he figured he should maybe possibly tell Sam about sometime soon. 

“Is it hot in here? I think it’s hot in here. Whoo boy, like, getting hotter by the minute hot,” he babbled, wanting more than anything to adjust himself. But there was no way he was going to draw more attention to his crotch right now. Plus if he touched himself now he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop. He settled for taking off his mask. He was still hot, but at least it was easier to breathe.

Sam looked at him, seemingly worried. That was a nice change from the initial uproarious laughter. Maybe. “Worldmind has nothing on this exact plant, but from what I can tell, these things usually end up killing the idiots stupid enough to get the pollen all over them.”

Peter spluttered, offended. “I told you, I just wanted a sample! How was I supposed to know the stupid thing was going to sneeze all over me?!” 

“I told you not to touch anything!” Sam exclaimed, sounding supremely annoyed. 

“When have I ever listened to you?” Peter shot back, then groaned as a spark of arousal shot down his spine. God. This was like being tortured. All he wanted to do was touch himself. 

But he **couldn’t**. 

“Are you hurt?” Sam looked alarmed, and oh right, that was probably because Peter was curling in on himself. Sam sounded worried, Peter's body thought it was attractive, **great**. 

“Opposite of hurt,” Peter managed, deep shame at war with the arousal in his gut. “Thought that was sort of obvious.” 

Sam sighed, stood, and took off his helmet. Peter shivered, taking in the sight of his unfairly hot teammate as the lights swirled around him and faded. Was he technically naked while he was transforming? Was it transforming? Could he keep himself glowy and fuck while he was still a pretty glowing naked man?

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, watching in horror as Sam started to take off his shirt. His shirt! Off! How was Peter supposed to get himself under control with his stupidly attractive teammate **taking off his clothes** _._

“Look. Worldmind says you’ll die if no one fucks you. So take off your clothes, Parker.” Sam just said out of freaking nowhere. Like it was an established theory on dealing with sex pollen! Peter made a high pitched noise not unlike a kettle boiling. Peter was going to need some freaking citations please and thank you!

“That’s, uhhhh, wow. Despite the romantic proposal I’m gonna have to say no,” Peter managed, wondering if the pollen hadn’t already killed him and he was in some weird afterlife. Or maybe he was just high? Like really, really high. Hallucinating Sam needing to fuck him high.

“Parker, you’re literally going to die,” Sam insisted. “Are you really going to kill yourself just because you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you!” He protested. “Why would you think I hate you?”

“Maybe because you say it every two minutes?” Sam huffed, but he was looking away. Shit. He actually thought…

“I’m just messing around. We’re friends, that’s what friends do,” Peter said. Trying for reassuring but sounding constipated instead.

“Cool,” Sam said simply, then went to unbuckle his pants.

“Woah! Woah woah, don’t do that!” Peter gasped, even as his cock twitched and lust boiled through his gut and demanded _yes do that!_ Oh god. This was the worst.

Sam sighed, but moved his (really big, really nice) hands away from his belt. “Okay, fine. Do you have a better plan?” 

Another wave of unbearable lust swept it’s way through Peter, making him gasp and rock his hips. As it happened Peter did not have a plan at all. Unless hiding away from his teammate and crying while he tried to not jerk it counted as a plan. “I don’t know Bucket Head. I’m uh… fudge. It’s hot in here.” 

“Why don’t you try a shower? Cool you down and get all the pollen off of you.” Sam sighed again. He sounded tense. Peter could relate.

“That’s… actually a good idea,” Peter said. It came out harsher than he meant it to, but it was so hard to think, so hard to do **anything** with liquid heat coursing through him. His balls ached and all he wanted was to touch his unfairly attractive teammate who he was no little bit smitten with. To maybe get on his knees and-

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, asshole.” Sam sounded hurt. Like actually hurt. Not jokey-annoyed-fake-hurt like usual.

Ah, shoot. He’d put his foot in it **again**. No wonder Sam thought he hated him, even though it was quite the opposite. Sheesh. But Sam was right. A shower would probably help. God, anything would help. He was so close to just rubbing himself through his skin tight spandex like a horny teenager. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just so hot. I, uh, I’ll go shower.” 

"Yeah… sure," Sam said, sounding much too vulnerable for, well, for Sam! Sam just didn’t do vulnerable! Not like, not like this! Being vulnerable was saved for post really-terrible-battles or anniversaries full of loss and pain. Not out on adventures and missions!

Peter made his way to the shower quickly, and stripped his clothes off as fast as he could. God, he was so hot. Taking his clothes off barely helped. The spray of the shower was lovely and cool on his skin, but even **that** barely helped. He was so hot that cold water wasn't helping! And his body was screaming that he do something, anything about his erection. His cock was rock hard. So hard it was all he could focus on. So much so that he didn’t notice Sam stripping behind him.

“What are you doing?!” Peter yelped, as a very naked, very attractive Sam stepped into the shower with him. 

“Relax Parker, I’m not going to grope you or something. I’m just going to wash your back and get all the pollen off.” Sam said, clearly beyond annoyed. Still sounding too genuinely upset, but Peter's body responded to this with a wave of lust so strong his freaking cock leaked at the sound of Sam's voice.

"Right, okay, good," Peter managed to say, sounding strangled from his effort at fighting his body.

"Good," Sam’s hands on his shoulders felt better than they had any right to feel. Definitely better than any hands on his body had ever felt before. Peter couldn’t hold back the low moan he made as Sam set to washing him.

“Sorry! Sorry, just uh, feels nice,” he said, blushing to the roots of his hair. Or at least he would be blushing in embarrassment if he wasn't still flushed from uncontrollable lust. _Seriously? Feels nice?_ God he was a mess.

"I know," Sam said, sounding close enough to his usual smug self that Peter was relieved. Mostly because it was at least a halfway normal thing to be turned on by. And God, was he ever turned on. His dick was so sensitive the freaking water was like a caress. The feeling of Sam behind him was almost too much. His body heat sent shivers of pleasure over Peter's skin. And his hands on his back, Jesus, he might as well be jacking him off for how amazingly good it felt. Peter wanted him. Wanted him **so bad**. Wanted him to fuck him, or kiss him, or **something** _._ Anything. **Everything**. And he could. Sam was offering. He could have him right now. Could have everything he’d never admitted aloud that he wanted from Sam. Peter ran his fingers along the length of his cock, gasping at how intense the sensation was. And oh, how he **wanted**. But Sam didn’t want him like that. Sam was just trying to save him out of his sense of duty. It wouldn’t be fair to use him like that… there had to be another way. And besides, Peter wasn’t sure he could ever go back to just being friends after this. If he gave in, it’d break his heart when Sam decided to go back to normal.

“Parker,” Sam said. 

But he was going **to die** if he didn’t **do something** . Literally going to die. Sam wouldn't lie about this, and Peter's symptoms were only getting worse. He could either die an overheated horny wreck or die getting so horny he lost his mind and took Sam anyways. Peter spun around, so fast that Sam gasped. Whoops, spider speed there. Peter stayed still and shook, trying to keep control over **something** _._

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, moving in close. God Sam was so **attractive** , all wet and wide eyed and **perfect**. “I’m sorry, god. I know you don’t really want me. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm so sorry I-"

“Parker, shut up,” Sam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Peter couldn’t help but reach out, his hands resting ever so gently on Sam’s hips. But he shut up, like he was asked.

"You're _flarking_ hot and I'm bi as hell. I will do my freaking best to make this _not_ terrible for you. But don't you **dare** think for a _flarking_ minute that I don't 'really' want you. Because **I do** . I do want you. There's definitely something wrong with me because **despite** how you rub my nose in how annoying and stupid I am **I want you** . But you have made it abundantly clear to me with every chance you get that you barely even tolerate me! So excuse the _flark_ outta me for not being a creep and hitting on you and making working with me even worse than it apparently is already!"

“Oh,” Peter managed. There was a lot to parse through there. But instead of saying anything helpful, he blurted out “You’re bi?” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, like it was obvious. Hell, maybe it was, but Peter hadn't ever let himself believe it.

“Me too,” he said unhelpfully, running his fingers over Sam’s hip bones. He added, “And I don’t barely tolerate you. I thought we were, I mean I always, and then you…” 

Sam kissed him. 

Peter couldn’t stop himself from making it into something desperate and hungry. His hips shifted forwards, and he found Sam half hard already. The sensation was like molten gold pumping through his dick. A moan tore it’s way out of him, and he tried to pull Sam impossibly closer. 

"Jesus _flark_ ," Sam said as Peter moved his kisses to his neck. In some distant part of his barely functioning brain, Peter felt a little bit bad for absolutely mauling Sam’s neck, but he couldn’t stop. Sam made the best noises as he finally managed to turn off the shower. Peter didn’t let up, even a little bit. God he’d never wanted someone so bad before. This pollen was really something. But so was Sam. He responded so sweetly to every suck and nip. Moaning and clinging to Peter like he was a lifeline. It was too much.

Peter reached between his legs, taking hold of his cock. The touch felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he made a strangled sound against Sam’s skin.

“ _Flark_ , Peter," Sam groaned. But despite his needy sounding voice he was trying to move away! Very, very distantly a tiny part of Peter's mind was frightened at his inability to let Sam leave his side for even half a second. But mostly, he panicked at the very thought of losing Sam's amazing touches. Peter clung to him, and Sam made a beautiful, frustrated sound. "Peter, gotta get my helmet."

“Can’t, need you, Sam, **please** ,” he begged and changed his grip to jack them both at the same time. Sam gasped, his hips shifting forward, encouraging Peter to move his hand up and down them both. The feel of Sam's dick against him was better than anything he'd felt yet. 

Sam grunted, hips moving again before he tried to push away. "Oh my fuck Parker, I'm not dry fucking your ass! And you better not even think about trying to-" 

"Never, no way, please, I can't, please Sam, need you, need you," Peter kissed Sam's mouth, unable to stop his own desperate begging any other way. He'd never hurt Sam like that, even through the molten lust haze the idea of just taking Sam dry was horrifying. Sam kissed him back with fervor. 

"Lube in my suit pockets," Sam got out when Peter returned to mauling Sam's neck. Peter couldn't even formulate a response. He let go of Sam’s dick and, still pumping his own cock, Peter hefted Sam up to his side; his hand on his ass and spider sticking him to his side to keep from dropping him as he made his very shaky way over to Sam's helmet. Sam groaned. “God, Pete.”

Sam put his helmet on, and the glow of the Nova Force swept over them both, making the hair on Peter’s arms stand up. It felt shamefully good, and he must have made a sound, because Sam was laughing at him. The low rumble of his laughter was even nice. Peter **needed** _._ Needed Sam close, needed Sam's mouth, his hands, his ass, his cock. And Sam was giving! Giving him everything Peter needed. It was more intoxicating than alcohol.

" _Flarking_ finally," Sam muttered, holding something that Peter really, desperately hoped was lube. He couldn't stop himself from ripping Sam's helmet off and managed to get the (what felt like) icy-cold-slippery (definitely a friction modifier) lube out. By accidentally crushing the tube. but he was hardly in any state to **care** _._ He was doing everything he could to keep Sam mostly undamaged. He couldn't stop biting and sucking Sam's skin, but he at least **could** keep it **only** bruising.

He reached between their bodies and set to lubing up Sam’s cock. God he felt good in his hand. And his little noise of surprise was so attractive. Everything about him was attractive. 

“I guess I’m topping then?” Sam said, breathless and sexy and almost like a question. Peter made some wordless noise at the implications that Sam trusted him enough that he’d have let him top even though he couldn’t even open the freaking lube without destroying it. It was beyond touching. And, unsurprisingly, it turned him on even more. 

"Yeah, yes, please, please Sam, need you, I'm so hot, please," Peter babbled. 

"Yeah, fuck, okay, c'mere," Sam said, his voice all breathy and sexy. Peter shivered.

Sam was plenty lubed up and every microsecond Peter was empty was literally painful. Peter pulled Sam to the floor, groping blindly for his cock to line it up. Sam gave a soft chuckle and swatted his hand away to do it for him. 

The first press of Sam’s cock inside was glorious. It was like Peter was made just for this, just to have Sam on top of him, inside of him. He couldn’t help but press back against him, earning himself a desperate moan from Sam. Peter loved it, but he needed Sam's mouth more. He leaned up and kissed Sam like he was dying from the lack of it. Every moment they weren’t kissing, Sam was telling him how pretty he was, how good he looked. How _lovely_ he was. It was hot as hell, but it also made Peter feel soft and tender emotions that he always tried to avoid. 

“More, yes, Sam please,” he found himself babbling, unable to stop. “So good. You’re so good. So beautiful. So everything. I love you, I’m sorry, fuck, I love you, I love you, please, please, please.”

Aw jeeze, what a shitty way to confess. But thankfully Sam just kept thrusting and muttering praise, seemingly unaffected by Peter's accidental genuine confession. Peter couldn't spare it any further thought. Sam’s cock felt so good inside him. Peter was absolutely shameless; fucking himself onto it like it was his entire reason for living. Driving Sam against his prostate in desperation for relief from the too hot, too much, too everything he was feeling.

“I’m close,” Sam told him breathlessly.

Peter moaned against Sam's skin, Sam was close. Sam was gonna come. Peter was so deliriously excited that he was going to _feel_ that. Peter clung to Sam's back and clawed at him in turn. Sam hissed, Peter had kept his biting (relatively) gentle but the same relative pressure plus his nails wasn't as gentle as he'd intended. 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Sam!” Peter said, breath hitching and horror clawing through his lust fuzzed thoughts.

“It’s fine, Pete. Barely hurt. “ Sam grunted between his heaving breaths.

“Are you sure? I’m so sorry,” Peter panted, his hands as delicately as he could manage skating over Sam’s back to search for damage. He wasn't in much of a state to do more than confirm that it didn’t seem he had drawn blood. Relief was washed away by heat and need and lust.

“I’m fine,” Sam managed, still thrusting into him at a steady pace. “Fuck, Pete. You’re so tight.”

And just like that, Peter was lost again in what seemed like an endless wave of lust. He moved then, fucking himself on Sam’s cock again, tirelessly seeking the pleasure that Sam gave him.

Sam moaned, something low and filthy, and Peter was suddenly shaking apart. His orgasm hit him like The Juggernaut, making him cry out and cling desperately to Sam. Sam seemed to stop holding back then too, because then he was cumming, filling Peter up. 

The change in temperature was instant. Suddenly the blazing heat was gone, leaving Peter feeling rather chilled. He shivered, and Sam sort of collapsed onto him, breathing heavily against his shoulder.

“That was.. wow. You’re stellar.”

Sam made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and swatted weakly at him. But Peter knew he liked it.

“I think it worked,” Peter said after the terrible heat and lust remained gone. Sam just grunted and stayed recovering on top of him. Peter went on, whining, “Why did that work? It doesn’t make any sense!"

“Space is like that Webs,” Sam said with a shrug. He pulled out and Peter found himself missing the fullness that having Sam’s cock in him had provided.

"But it doesn't. Make. Sense. How am I supposed to pollinate the other flowers when I'm dying from not being banged?" Peter said, trying to gesture to convey his frustration and also hold Sam close.

“Dunno, Webs. Can’t you just enjoy the afterglow?” Sam groaned.

“Not when there’s science to be done!” He replied, but snuggled Sam close despite his words. Surprisingly Sam seemed to accept the snuggling. At least for the moment.

“Good to know you’re chronically unable to shut up, even when you’re fucking,” Sam said after a moment or two.

“Right. About that. I uh, I said some stuff…” Peter blushed, remembering just how much stuff he’d said. He released Sam, reluctantly letting him sit up and move out of his space.

“Pretty sure you wrote a _flarking_ thesis with how much stuff you said, Webs,” Sam said with an unfairly adorable snort, thankfully sounding more amused than anything. 

“I’d have laid things out better if it was a thesis,” Peter replied, smiling ruefully. “But um, the one thing, in specific. I uh, I guess that was kind of a shitty way to come out with it, I’m sorry.” 

Sam gave him a blank look. He ventured, after a moment of confused silence, “Uh, good job on being bi?” 

“What? No not that!” Peter blinked, confused. Was Sam just pretending, or did he really not realize that Peter had awkwardly confessed his love to him? How could he have **missed** it? Did his partners **always** spontaneously declare their love for him? “I meant that I um… that you know… I’m uhh… Ikindofloveyou.”

Sam blinked at him and then stared. Nonplussed.

“Huh,” he said after an excruciatingly long moment. He looked at Peter like he was some kind of puzzle needing solving. 

“I mean, I’ve always had a crush on you?”, Peter blurted out, unable to stay silent under the weight of Sam's gaze. “And then a crush turned into more than a crush, and then in typical Parker fashion I razzed you more because I couldn’t let you figure out that I liked you. But I think maybe I pushed too hard? But yes, I mean it’s totally okay if you don’t feel the same I’m just-“

Peter stopped as Sam placed a hand on his arm. He stared at it for a moment, giving Sam enough time to say “Yeah okay, Webs. You’re still all loopy from the pollen.” 

“Loopy?! I’m not loopy! I’m just in love with you,” Peter paused, considering. He did feel kind of floaty now. “Okay maybe I’m a **little** loopy, but the point stands! I know how I feel, Bucket Head.”

Sam sighed, and Peter suddenly realized how **tired** he looked. He was hunched down, looking wrung out, **exhausted** . Peter seriously doubted it was just from having sex. Sam confirmed it with a pained, “If you want to date me, _flarking_ treat me right!”

Peter found himself talking before he even knew what he was going to say. What else was new? “I can do that! I can treat you so right! I can buy you roses and take you to dinner, and I’ll stop being an ass to you, I swear!” 

"How about, treat me right **first**. Then try and date me." Sam replied shortly. 

Peter felt shame pool in his chest. He hadn’t even realized that his stupid inability to cope with feelings had been hurting Sam so much. Sam still joked with him, still came over for their now much less frequent game night even. Peter told him, sincere and full of remorse, “Of course. I’m sorry for being such a jerk, that was really crappy of me. I’ll do better Sparky. I promise."

Sam grunted in acknowledgment, which Peter figured was about as good of an answer as he was going to get. 

“Come on, let’s clean up. And maybe burn our clothes,” Sam suggested, already putting his helmet on.

“Good idea. Except I don’t have a change. You wouldn’t happen to have some clothes in those magical pockets?” Even as Peter spoke he went to retrieve his specimen bags from his abandoned suit, with Sam following close behind him.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, though he didn’t sound surprised. His voice was only a bit distorted by his space suit being fully engaged. He pushed Peter away from his spider suit. “Here, don’t touch anything for real this time. I don’t need you getting dosed again,” he said, gathering Peter’s suit up. Before Peter could say anything, Sam was already searching the pockets, taking out all of the samples Peter had gotten and handing them to him. It was actually really thoughtful and really sweet. Peter was definitely touched.

“Thank you,” Peter said, beaming at him. “You’re really something, Sam.” 

Much to Peter’s delight, Sam blushed, huffing like he could hide it by pretending to be annoyed. God he was so **cute** _._ Sam floated away outside with their contaminated clothes. Peter stayed behind, sorting through his specimens.

“You have this ridiculous Spider Ship with like three labs, and you didn’t bring a change of clothes?” Sam asked in disbelief when he returned, voice again unobstructed by his faceplate.

“Ahhaha, um, yes? I didn’t think I’d need them!” Peter defended. Though he was mostly feeling happy and warm and fuzzy that Sam had called it the **Spider Ship** . Take **that** SHIELD. 

Sam went to say something else, only to be cut off by Peter giving a mighty sneeze. Instantly the space filled with fluffy little seeds, almost like dandelions, only puffier.

Those had come from **inside of him**. 

“Holy _flark_!” Sam said. His space suit reengaged and he immediately began blasting them into non-existence.

“I think I hate space,” Peter said, tucking some of the fluffy seeds away from Sam’s zapping into a collection jar. He had some serious studying to do. 

"You aren't happy that the sex pollen plant makes sense now?" Sam snarked.

“No. Space sucks,” Peter sulked, then sneezed up more seeds. It felt absolutely horrible.

Even as Sam blasted these seeds he had the audacity to laugh at him. “If you think **this** is terrible, you really aren’t ready for the rest of space.”

"Is this **not** terrible?! How?! How could this not even **rank** on your scale of terribleness?! What is wrong with you?!"

Sam, instead of being offended or hurt by Peter's outburst, just cackled. Sam mimed wiping away tears and least made an effort at settling down. He reached out and rested a comradely hand on Peter's shoulder. "Okay. Okay. Look. First of all, my dose of sex pollen was like nothing. Especially compared to your Webheaded butt. Second, we had sex, it was pretty flarking hot, you're welcome. Third, apparently you don't actually hate me at all you're just an idiot. See. Not even the littlest bit terrible."

Peter tilted his head, thinking this over. “Okay. You have a point. Still hate sneezing up seeds though.” 

"It's pretty _flarking_ hilarious to watch. But fair. C'mon let's get you outside so I can stop killing your weird alien booger babies," Sam declared.

Peter spluttered, physically pained by Sam’s words, and Sam in general really. When he got himself together enough to speak, he said, “Technically they're **our** weird booger babies.” 

"Gross," Sam said. And though Peter couldn't see it properly with his helmet in the way, he definitely knew Sam was scrunching up his nose in an unfairly adorable way. They kept walking once outside, Peter couldn't see their contaminated clothes anywhere. He sincerely hoped Sam hadn't burned them. Being a nude dude for the rest of this trip did not sound fun.

Peter sneezed again, and then again, watching in a mix of awe and horror as the seeds he sneezed out blew off in the wind. 

Then Sam sneezed. His space suit was still engaged. The fluffy seeds were trapped in his helmet and everything not covered by helmet or suit was white fluff.

“Ughh I can’t see! Why?!” Sam groaned rather fluffily, before taking off his helmet and letting the little seeds fly. 

Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I see what you mean. It **was** hilarious watching you sneeze booger fluff babies." 

"Ugh, that felt disgusting," Sam complained. He was wearing his suit even though he was resting his helmet against his hip.

"How come your suit is still here. I mean. Sometimes you take your helmet off and you're still in the rest of your suit, but then sometimes you take it off and you have a sailor senshi transformation sequence," Peter asked, waving his hand through the swirling seeds as they floated away.

Sam looked physically pained by Peter's existence and said, "First of all, I'm not Sailor Moon. I'm Nova. Second, because I don't want it to."

“Huh. It just does what you want? That’s wild,” Peter said, looking Sam over. How did that even work? Did he have a telepathic bond with his helmet? Could he hear it's 'worldmind' like this? Peter blurted out “You know, that blue glow makes you look really pretty. Could you stay all glowy if you wanted to?” 

Peter flushed, realizing he’d just called Sam **pretty**. Like, actually, un-sex pollened genuinely told Sam he was pretty. Sam looked smug, but his cheeks were tinted red. Right. Treat Sam right. Call him pretty when he's pretty, smooth Parker charm. Peter felt ridiculously pleased.

"Not sure. Don't think anyone has tried it before. Nova used to have more important things to do than play around with light shows,” Sam said.

“And I know you still do, but I mean… we’re here. The universe isn’t ending. You could try. For science?” Peter said. Instead of whining annoyingly, he looked over at Sam with a little pout. 

“Seriously, Webs? You haven’t had enough science for one day?” Sam asked, clearly totally done with science.

“Never enough science in a day, Sam,” Peter said with a laugh. Sam was looking at him with amused exasperation. Peter turned his best puppy dog eyes to Sam.

“Eugh, fine. I’ll try it,” Sam relented. Heh, yes, Parker charm wins again. A look of intense concentration crossed his features, and then suddenly he was lighting up like a firefly, blue light swirling around him, on him, in him in mesmerizing spirals. 

Peter stared at him, awed. “You’re gorgeous,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth. His hand reached out to touch him before Peter even thought about it. He waited, hand hovering a few centimeters away from Sam's swirling blue, glowing skin. “Can I?” 

“It’s probably a bad idea, but if your Spidey Sense isn’t freaking out then go for it,” Sam said. His voice seemed to echo in Peter's mind. Like Sam was speaking both out loud and directly in his head. Peter pressed his hand against Sam's chest and blue light swirled up his arm, stopping just around his deltoids.

“Woah,” Peter gasped. It didn’t feel pins and needles tingly like his Spidey sense, but it **definitely** tingled. Sam blinked at him. It was strange, like this his face had lost definition. It was like everything except his Nova blue eyes was just an impression. "This is neat.”

“Parker, you are such a loser,” Sam said with a laugh. Though there was definitely something strange about the way ‘loser’ felt from Sam's mental voice. Sam added, “Who says neat?”

“I do. Because I think you’re neat,” Peter retorted. The blue glow faded away, sending another wave of tingles across his skin. Sam’s face came back into focus, and Peter was struck by how green his eyes were when he wasn’t glowing blue. 

Sam scoffed at him, but he seemed happy enough about it. Peter decided to try his luck, and use one of his smooth moves on Sam. 

“You know, your eyes are really nice,” Peter said, moving in close, smooth as could be. To Peter's delight Sam blushed.

"Smooth Parker." Sam said, sounding sarcastic and rolling his eyes. Like that would trick Peter into ignoring his cute rosy cheeks.

"You like it,” Peter said, grinning. Sam only blushed harder and glowered at him. But only for a little bit. His expression went all sweet after only a few moments. Peter had never seen him look like **this** before. Peter's heart raced and he leaned in close. And immediately sneezed a mighty cloud of fluffy seeds right in Sam's face.

“Eughhh what the _flark_ Parker,” Sam screeched, swiping the seeds away. Peter rushed to apologize, only to sneeze even more seeds into Sam’s face. 

" _Flarking_ menace!" Sam moved back, flailing at the bits of fluff with his helmet. 

"I am," another sneeze of fluffy alien seeds, "so, so sorry," a series of small little sneezes back to back, "Sparky! Totally didn't mean to sneeze all up in your face! I swear!"

"Like hell you didn't!" Sam yelled back, but it didn't have any bite. He was back to his fake annoyance that Peter was very familiar with. So when Sam backed away Peter followed. As long as Sam was willing, Peter wouldn't stop following him til the ends of reality.

  
  


...

  
  



End file.
